Twenty-Three
Jack
“Asia,” I whispered.
It was hard to hear my voice over my pounding heart, but Asia responded instantly. She stirred and then looked up at me, surprisingly clear-eyed.
But then again, it took her hours to fall asleep, and I knew her well enough to know she didn’t sleep soundly.
“There’s company,” I whispered.
She nodded, a deep furrow between her eyebrows as she glanced toward the door. Almost instantly, that furrow was gone, and she was focused .
At least I thought she was.
The body shop was almost pitch black.
That darkness didn’t really strike me before, but it was inescapable now.
No doubt because of the circumstances. After all, the darkness didn’t really matter until it gave monsters a way to hide.
Even a little ambient light would have made all the difference. The irony of that thought wasn’t lost on me.
I’d always told Evan one of the things I loved most about the ranch was real night. You could see the stars when they sparkled. When they didn’t, the darkness felt deeper, more real.
A feeling I never got in the city with all the artificial light.
Fuck if I didn’t miss that artificial light now.
I peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise and wondering what gave us away.
We were completely silent, impeccably so. Nothing should have given us away.
Maybe it was just shitty luck.
I didn’t know, which I fucking hated.
No use crying over it now .
The shift in the shadows told me figures were approaching. At least three based on what little I saw.
I slanted a glance at Asia and caught her staring in the same direction I was.
She still didn’t panic. That wasn’t a surprise, but I felt a surge of warmth, something much too much like admiration, at the sight of her ethereal calm.
How, in these totally FUBAR’ed circumstances, did this woman still get to me?
A question for another day.
If we got another day.
I heard more noise and decided that was enough.
More zombies?
Desperate people?
People out looking for whatever they could take?
I didn’t know which was worse.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to find out.
“Jack, let’s get out of here,” came her faint, husky whisper, followed by her hand on my forearm. There was a comfort and familiarity in her touch that I welcomed .
It grounded me, and I was grateful for it.
She gestured toward the back door, and I followed her gaze.
Ed, the twice-deceased owner of the body shop, lay in one corner. I grabbed the duffle and stepped over Ed, fighting to control my reaction.
I never told Vaughn or anyone else, but stepping over a corpse always freaked me out.
Maybe it was just a leftover fear from childhood, but for a split second I tensed, ready for the corpse to grab me.
I never took it seriously, figuring it was just suspicion or habit, but maybe my subconscious mind was on to something.
I realized now that as careful as I thought I was before, I needed to be that tenfold now.
Because the corpses could reach out now.
They could do so much more.
We made it to the back door, and I stopped Asia.
We stood still, listening.
And then I heard it.
That shuffling.
Something clawing at the door.
The sound scratched against my nerves .
Faint, yet brittle.
And way too close.
A cold draft brushed my face, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood mixed with stale motor oil. The draft stirred up dust, and I tasted it, gritty on my tongue.
Asia’s hand was still on my arm, and I knew she held her breath. I felt the tension in her body. And it wasn’t just nerves. She braced herself to move—or to face what might be coming for us.
I heard her sharp sigh, then looked to where she was facing.
Rats.
Rats that had clearly been feasting, their overstuffed bodies swaying as they ran.
And the likely reason for our visitors.
I heard more scuffling—the unmistakable, anxious sound of a hunt.
We needed to go.
I squeezed Asia’s hand, and she squeezed back.
I didn’t know if she was really ready.
But she was going to have to be.
I looked around the garage again, but then focused on the door .
There was no time to secure a car.
I should have done that before, but now was no time for regret.
Regret was a luxury that would get us both killed.
So I tested the lock—froze when there was a heavy creak behind us.
It sounded like a bullhorn. And when I looked at Asia’s wide eyes, I shrugged.
I didn’t know where it came from, but it didn’t matter.
We had to go.
I pulled her hand, and she followed behind me. Together, we looked back, and saw the same thing.
“There’s a lot of them,” Asia said.
And there were.
At least four, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there were more.
“We gotta go,” I said quietly.
Asia nodded, starting to move, but then stopped in her tracks.
More shadowed figures in front of us. I couldn’t tell how many.
“What do we do?” Her voice was hushed but urgent .
I glanced back and saw those four figures getting ever closer. Looked forward and saw five—no, six more.
There was only one choice.
“We gotta fight,” I said.
She looked like she wanted to be sick, yet she nodded.
“We should try to save as much ammo as we can,” I said.
She nodded and grabbed her baton out of her duffel bag.
And then, moving in step, we approached.
Two hard, quick swings—and one of the things fell.
Two more hard swings and another fell.
Asia swung, too, grunting with the force of her efforts.
Sweat slicked the grip of my weapon, and I squeezed it tighter.
Judge Hanlon had gotten only the best of the best, and this baton was no exception. I swung it with all my might, and it held up to the force and was solid in my hand.
I tried to focus on that and not those things, though it was nearly impossible.
The scent of rot grew stronger with each blow. The sickening thud of bodies hitting the floor seemed to be timed to my heart beats.
Asia was at my side swinging with controlled abandon. A contradiction, but what about this woman wasn’t? Her breaths came in short bursts, and one of her braids clung to her cheek. Fear was stamped all over her features.
But she didn’t falter.
She wielded her baton with authority, and those things fell one after the other.
Pride surged through my chest.
She held her own.
But we cleared out enough of those things to buy us some time.
“Let’s go back inside,” I said.
We quickly entered the body shop again.
“You all right?”
Asia looked at me and nodded.
“You?”
I nodded.
“We can’t stay here, can we?” she said.
“No,” I responded.
She looked at me and nodded.
“Okay. Should we try the cars?”
I thought for a moment, feeling uncharacteristically unsure. The cars might help, but we could get into trouble.
“Here in the city, we might get caught up. Probably be easier to move on foot, wait till we get farther out. Maybe the highways aren’t packed.”
“Do you really want to be on foot again?” Asia asked.
I bit back my frustration. She didn’t mean anything by it, and she raised a good question.
“No,” I said, “but all things equal, it’s safer on foot.”
She nodded, and then looked toward the door. More shadows gathered.
Asia gave a sardonic smile. “I guess we should make our exit now.”
I nodded.
“You ready to shoot that thing?” I asked as she put away her baton in her duffel and secured her weapon in her hand.
“I’d better be,” she said.
It wasn’t exactly reassurance, but I would take it and trust that Asia could handle herself.
And so we went.
We cut through another gathering of those things, which only proved my earlier thought. Sound attracted them.
I filed that piece of information away, knowing we’d need it.
Glass and other debris crunched beneath our feet no matter how lightly we moved. The wind carried a low, distant moan, one that I knew wasn’t human.
A shadow flickered across the far wall.
Asia caught my arm, then met my eye.
She was asking if we should fight.
We handled some of those things, but it was clear more were on the way.
“Not now,” I murmured. “Keep moving.”
Our boots crushed across the concrete now, the noise loud, but I didn’t care. We needed to get out of here.
And then we were outside.
The early morning air was thick, clinging to me like a second skin. It seemed some of the fires had gone out, but smoke and soot still hung in the air.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We kept moving, the stink of rot chasing us with every step .
I breathed in shallow breaths and tried to ignore the stench.
When we were about a mile away from the body shop, the sun began to rise.
“Beautiful sunrise,” Asia said.
She sounded wistful, but I didn’t ask her to explain why.
It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was staying alive.
She walked next to me, her expression tight.
“What are we going to do, Jackson?” she said quietly.
She looked at me for a moment, her expression solemn, and then she shook her head.
“Sorry. That’s a lot to put on you.”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it,” I said.
And I meant it, too.
I still didn’t understand why, but making sure Asia was okay was important to me.
She would be.
I promised myself.
I knew her well enough to know that asking for help wasn’t easy for her, so the fact that she did now was a testament to her intelligence .
That’s all it was. It didn’t say anything about me.
I told myself that was good because I would be gone soon enough, nothing but a distant memory if I was lucky.
That was good enough.
“Should we check out that restaurant?”
I started to say we should keep moving, but she looked at me, and lifted her lips in a wry smile.
She cleared her throat. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.
I nodded sharply, and we carefully made our way to the restaurant.
It was a detached building that looked like it had been a drug store in another life.
I didn’t like how close it was to the road, but it was quiet.
Too quiet.
The traffic the city was notorious for had faded.
There was no honking.
No engines.
Just the occasional distant scream.
It was creepy as fuck .
One quick glance at Asia told me she felt the same way.